First Job, Lasting Impact

In the spring of 1985, at age 16, I got a work permit and landed a job scooping ice cream at $3.60 an hour—slightly more than the state’s $3.35 minimum wage.

Before then, I brought in cash by mowing lawns, cleaning rain gutters, and selling the Sunday papers (yes, Los Angeles had two major dailies back then). But with a car and college on the horizon, I wanted a stable income.

I kept my job search within walking distance of home, submitting two applications to start: one at McDonald’s, the other at a local chain drugstore.

Not hearing anything back from either, my dad and I revisited the drugstore. I talked to Frances, a clerk we’d known for years. Familiar with the inner workings of the store’s talent acquisition process, she led my dad and me to the manager’s podium at the front of the store.

Opening the podium’s lower cabinet, Frances pulled out a clipboard clutching dozens of paper applications. Once we found my application, she gently slid it out and placed it at the very top of the stack. “I’ll tell Mr. Sanchez about you.”

Within days, I was called for an interview, handed an employee handbook and a polyester uniform, and assigned a start date after school let out for the summer.

The summer heat brought long lines and some awkward interactions as I learned the ropes. I also had to build some arm strength: chocolate malted crunch and other popular ice cream flavors were hard as a rock when fresh from the walk-in freezer.

Still, the store became part of my identity. I went on to work at the photo counter, manage the candy inventory, and do other tasks.

Managers sought me out for advice on merchandising the store to local tastes and a customer once shared that she waited all week to ask an inventory question because she knew I would be there Saturday to give her a thoughtful answer.

A couple of years in, I mentioned to the store manager that I wasn’t climbing the union pay scale because I worked only part-time on weekends during the school year. Pay raises were mostly based on cumulative hours worked. She reviewed my file and saw I was making only about 50 cents more per hour than when I’d started.

Next pay cycle, she raised my pay to the top of the scale. I recall my new hourly wage as a “journeyman” clerk was just north of $8 an hour, closer to that of a full-time grocery clerk.

Suddenly, I was making more than I ever would have earned at a fast-food gig or at many mall stores back then.

The extra income boosted my college savings, especially when I worked full-time over summer break. I didn’t have to rely on financial aid and never had to take out a loan for college or graduate school. Upon graduation, I had money in the bank, a healthy emergency fund, and no debt weighing me down.

In all, I worked eight years at that store. Beyond the money and the strong financial starting point it provided, I see several life lessons in the experience, including:

1. Networking. Knowing people gives you options. Treat those you meet with respect and stay in touch when possible. You never know who might help you find your next gig.
2. Self-advocacy and follow-up. Keeping tabs on your work and speaking up when something seems off can make a good impression—and pay dividends.
3. Persistence and hard work. When you stick with things, you build credibility, which makes it easier to advocate for yourself.
4. Customer service. Meeting customer needs with a caring and friendly attitude is as valuable in business as it is at the hand-dip counter. It’s a lifetime skill.

The support of family, plenty of good luck, and the goodwill of others are also evident. Frances didn’t have to put in a good word for me, and management didn’t have to raise my pay.

Shortly after starting at the drugstore, I bought lunch at McDonald’s and was served by the manager I’d met months earlier. He asked why I didn’t submit the application I’d been given. I had.

That lost application ended up having a ripple effect. It led to a better-paying job, years of steady work, and a strong financial head start. Apparently, the inner workings—or shortcomings—of the fast-food talent acquisition process had worked in my favor.